We're Going On a WHAT?
by muffinlover101
Summary: There are three things that make up the Jackson Marching Ironmen: Inside jokes, the crab dance, and FOOTBALL! What happens when the band is suddenly rewarded with a camping trip? Chaos ensues. My marching band deserves to have a story on here.
1. What Is This 'Field Trip' You Speak Of?

_Field trip. _

After that one phrase was uttered, the whole Jackson High School Marching Band froze as one. Paper stopped shuffling on music stands, random instrument noises ceased, and, much to the band director's surprise, not a word came from one teenager's mouth. It was a rare occurrence for the teenage band to be silent. When it did occur, the silence broke moments later by an amusing outburst or someone muttering, "Well, this is awkward".

McCoy, the Jackson Marching Ironmen's 'dictator', gave everyone sitting around her a confused stare. "What?" she questioned, completely baffled by the teenagers' lack of sound. She was a little more than surprised: It was almost _scary _in a way. "All I said was: It appears that Mr. Hemsley has realized our amazing existence, and is rewarding our existence with a field trip."

Silence.

"Okay, this is creepy. Can any of you breathe? Because I-"

All at once, the room burst into excited conversation. Every teenager grinned from ear to ear: They were going on a _field trip_? The whole idea seemed impossible. The marching band was never noticed for anything. Although they performed at football games and other sporting events, their presence wasn't really acknowledged. Sure, their parents loved them in the stands, but right after they finished playing a song it was as if every one of them turned invisible. They were cast off to sit in a corner, where they would be ignored until the most convenient time.

That time rarely came.

The look on McCoy's face signaled defeat, and she retreated off her podium and into her office. To do what, you ask? To drink coffee or play on her iPhone. Or both at the same time. Elliott looked too overwhelmed by the noise to say anything at all, and Billman remained in the far corner of the band room with an amused look on her face.

A small cluster of flute and clarinet players all turned to converse with one another. Rachel Green, who is a freshman in the band, nudged Carly Polcyn, who is also a newcomer at the high school. "McCoy can't be serious," Rachel gushed, looking far too excited about the idea. "Do you know how much _destruction _would be caused if the band went on a field trip?"

Carly laughed and replied, "I can't even imagine. This is going to be amazing."

Rachel Ditmer, who is a senior flutist, ceased her current conversation to look at the freshmen. She is referred to as merely 'Clone' by Rachel Green, for their names are the same and they have far too many things in common for it to be normal. "But we don't even know where we're going yet," she pointed out.

Somehow, the whole band seemed to hear her and everyone froze once again.

"_McCoy!" _Hannah Hollback, a junior flutist screamed. She is one of the loudest people in the band, and her voice can certainly travel long distances. Namely a football field. "Where are we going?"

McCoy merely stared up from her iPhone in the other room. She gave Hannah a look that said, _Are you even human?_

"The dump!" came a random suggestion from somewhere in the saxophone section. The band burst into a fit of laughter and the roar of excited, teenage voices grew louder.

"Oh my God, are we finally going to Disney World?"

"To hell with Disney World! Are we finally allowed to go to the Macy's Day Parade?"

"I liked Cedar Point!"

"That sucked. We should go to the beach!"

"What about Universal Studios?"

"I think we've earned a field trip to the police station!"

Everyone brought their attention to Morgan, a junior percussionist, and laughed in agreement at his theory.

"I'm not sure what we did at the last home game was legal," Doug said uneasily. "After all, we-"

"Guys, shut up!" McCoy, fed up with everyone's ridiculous ideas, left her precious coffee and iPhone to return to the podium. Shaking her head, she said loudly, "We're not going to any of those places! Although the police station is quite plausible, Doug. What Ethan did was-"

"We already know this story!" Heather shouted from the saxophone section. This senior is known for taking charge and being _quite _loud. "Just tell us where we're going already!"

"But you interrupted my beautiful voice," McCoy said seriously.

The band, as one, gave her an unamused glare.

"Who knew the whole band could be on their period at once," McCoy mumbled quietly, but she soon received a '_hey!' _from the trumpet section. "Anyway, all your theories are wrong. Very wrong, in fact."

"Are we going to your house?" Riley McLaughlin asked. The freshman percussionist sounded almost hopeful.

The band tried to hold in their laughter, but were unsuccessful.

"Thank God no," McCoy replied, and she looked as though she were having a terrifying scene going on in her head. "By the way, if any of you even _try_ coming to my house, I'm calling the cops. Then our field trip will indeed be the police station." The whole band grinned at this. "Now, if you people will actually shut up, I'll announce where we're going."

Everyone became unusually silent.

"Thank you. We are indeed taking..."

All the teenagers were visibly on the edge of their seats.

"..._A camping trip_!" McCoy shouted with fake enthusiasm.

Anxious grins transformed into angry frowns in a matter of moments. An displeased '_WHAT?_' rang throughout the large room, starting an uproar of protest. Over fifty teenage mouths were running at once, and that alone caused mayhem.

"Oh dear God," Clone muttered, putting a hand to her forehead. "This is going to be like 'left foot' at Freshman and Senior camp all over again!"

"I don't want this to go on forever, but really? _A camping trip? _How is this our reward?" Rachel questioned, giving her Clone an annoyed look.

"Well, McCoy _did _say this was because Mr. Hemsley realized our existence. Maybe this is our punishment for existing." Clone wore a sarcastic smile, but her theory seemed sadly true.

Carly didn't appear too disappointed with the field trip. "Look on the bright side, guys. Even though this isn't the best field trip idea in the world, the band will still be together. And that's always fun."

Clone and Rachel grumbled something in return, but it wasn't heard over the other screaming teenagers.

"_Everyone shut up!_" Na'Tyra, also known as Nikey shouted from the trumpet section. The room was immediately silenced. The band knew that when the senior screamed, it wasn't a good time to continue talking.

"I appreciate that Na'Tyra," McCoy said calmly. The director didn't even seem angry with her annoying 'children'. Instead, she appeared amused by their over dramatic reactions. "But guys, really, you should just be happy to get out of school for a few days."

Everyone noticeably brightened at the idea. They didn't have to go to school to hang out with the whole band. Instead, they could run around the woods causing destruction with one another.

The camping trip was starting to seem somewhat fun.

"Okay, so the band is going to rent several cabins up at a campsite a few hours away from here." McCoy whipped out a clipboard off her podium that no one seemed to notice before. "This is the sign up sheet for cabins. And guys, before you ask..." She let out an exhausted sigh. "No coed cabins. Do you _really _think I want to walk in on Hannah and Ben when I have to check and see if you guys are in bed? No. I don't."

"What are you talking about? Boys have cooties!" Hannah shouted seriously from her spot in the flute section.

"Yeah. You _really _showed off that opinion during Band Day. I'm just amused that you thought making out right outside an insane asylum was romantic," McCoy replied with her normal, blank expression.

"You didn't even know it was an asylum until we told you!" Clone pitched in.

"...Shut up."

"I did no such thing," Hannah mumbled, pretending to study her piccolo.

McCoy continued, "Anyway, there will obviously be chaperons for each cabin you sign up for. I'm cabin one, so-"

With inhuman speed, about twenty teenagers dove for the clipboard in McCoy's palm. McCoy let it fall to the floor, for she had stopped caring long ago. Leaving the rabid scene that was unfolding in front of the podium, she retreated to the sanctuary known as her office. The band students fought for the clipboard like wild animals clawing for a scrap of meat. The rest of the band sat back, amused, while Elliott and Billman decided it was best to leave.

"I'm getting this cabin, dammit!" Clone screeched, whacking any teenager with McCoy's clipboard who came close. Pulling out a pen, she quickly scrawled down her name along with a few other band members. Once the deed was done, she managed to get out of the frenzy. With a smile, she calmly said, "I signed you up too, Clone."

Rachel gave her a thumbs up like the scene never happened. "Thanks!"

"All right. So me, you, Jackie, Scarlett, Carly, and Lydia are in McCoy's cabin," Clone grinned, looking around the room for the other teenage girls. "I volunteer to set a trap for her one night."

"What kind of trap?" Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not telling you. Watch Ponyo while you wait."

"No one will watch it with me!" The freshman faked sadness and sulked off in mock exhaustion.

As the band members continued to violently sign one another up for cabins and talk about what might occur during the trip, they knew one thing:

They were going to make sure this trip kicked brass.


	2. In Which Strange Things Occur

McCoy thought it couldn't get any worse. A ride on the band bus was bad enough, but a bus ride that was _three hours_? She imagined herself getting run over by the vehicle, and soon realized that it would be less painful than this. The thirty or so teenagers that had signed themselves up for her bus earlier this year would not shut up. Every song, every scream, and every annoying sound was slowly killing the band director. She didn't have enough coffee for this.

"McCoy, who are you dating?" was the current question being purposed to the exhausted dictator. Clay, another annoying, junior trumpet player had somehow teleported to the front of the bus. How had he gotten there? McCoy shook her head. Eagle Scouts. They're impossible to figure out.

"Why do I always have to be dating someone?" McCoy gave him one of her signature 'you're-an-idiot' looks. "Even if I _did _have a boyfriend, he would have already committed suicide at the sight of you people."

"I knew it! Mick Jagger."

"...Get back to your seat, Clay."

Meanwhile, Rachel, Clone, Carly, Lydia, and Gabby were sitting somewhere in the middle of the bus. There was only about ten minutes left in the bus ride, and all their earlier energy had disappeared some time ago. Despite this, they remained giggly, cracking jokes and talking about what might happen when they arrived.

"Will McCoy be staying in our cabin?" Rachel wondered, scrolling through the pictures she had taken on her camera. Most of them consisted of random teenagers with unusual expressions on their faces.

"I'd imagine so," Clone replied with a plotting look. "I've thought of several things that might freak her out."

"Like your face?"

Clone stared back at Rachel blankly. "The green car won," she said, as if her statement was obvious.

Her words shut the freshman clarinet player up, and she merely turned her attention to the window.

"Why didn't you sign me up for your cabin?" Gabby, a freshman saxophone player whined. She is yet another freshman that Clone claimed at the beginning of the year.

"Do you really think I had time to sign _everyone _up at a time like that?" Clone asked.

"No. But still!"

"It doesn't matter," the senior attempted to end the conversation. "You can still come over and help us prank McCoy whenever you'd like."

"At least you have McCoy as a chaperon," Gabby complained. "I looked under my cabin number and apparently some dude named Weaver is going to be our chaperon. His name screams '_creeper_'!"

"So McCoy's cat is your cabin's chaperon?" Clone failed at not laughing. "I'm sorry, but... really, who would name someone or something that other than _McCoy_?"

"Exactly! That's why I've come to the conclusion that he's a creeper. Don't be surprised if you find me sleeping in your cabin."

"With us at the campsite, all the chaperons that aren't involved with the band will definitely kill themselves within the first day," Carly decided. "Who are the other chaperons, anyway?"

Lydia shrugged. "I thought Mrs. Elliott and Mrs. Billman were going to be some. Other than that, I have no clue. Who would even be brave enough to help watch over _band kids_?"

"McCoy's cat, evidently. His purpose is probably to get rid of us. McCoy _has _threatened to sic him on us before." Clone said this with a completely serious look on her face.

Gabby sat back and crossed her arms. "I know for a fact he's going to a creepy middle-aged man," she mumbled to herself. "Or _cat_."

The rest of the conversation was made up of giggles and other theories about the chaperon/cat name Weaver. It wasn't long before the sight of civilization rolled into view. Cabins and other various camp buildings could now be seen out the band bus window. A large lake stretched out beyond the small campsite and near a heavily wooded area.

"That's where I'm going to throw the next person who asks me about my love life!" McCoy shouted over the noise, gesturing to the nearby lake.

"Awesome! I love swimming!" Hannah declared from her spot beside Ben on the bus. "McCoy, does your boyfriend look like Darth-"

"_Hannah. _I'm serious. Speaking of love lives, I would appreciate it if everyone stopped sucking face around me. As I've told you before, making out on the band bus gives everyone herpes."

"And now I continue to wonder how getting herpes from this is accomplished," Rachel added.

Clone shook her head. "It's McCoy. Anything is possible with her."

The bus pulled into the campsite's parking lot a few minutes later. As usual, it was chaotic to get everyone off the vehicle. Most of them either tripped, whacked someone with their luggage, or McCoy pushed them out the door when they weren't paying attention.

"What the crap, Clone?" Rachel stared in bewilderment at her Clone's bulky suitcase once they got off the bus. "What could possibly be in there? Fifty _hair brushes_?"

Clone glared at her. "One: I hate you. Two: No, I just brought everything we could possibly need to make this trip epic."

"Did you bring the squirrel?"

"Yes."

"Amazing!" Rachel replied in a sing-song voice. Before she could move any closer to the small huddle of band students, Ashlyn, a freshman percussionist, appeared in front of her.

"Kevin and Ian scare me on my bus," Ashlyn declared, dropping all of her luggage on the concrete. "I am now trying to get as far away from them as possible."

Rachel smirked. "But aren't they adorable?"

"No. They're far from it, I'm afraid."

The freshman clarinet player put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry you that must experience something so creepy. If my Clone wasn't being attacked at the time, we would have signed you up for our cabin."

Ashlyn mumbled something in return and sulked off to stand by some other percussionists. It wasn't long before they realized that the band had formed a circle around several adults that had appeared in the parking lot.

"All right, everyone shut up!" McCoy managed to yell over all the loud conversations. The adults in the middle of the circle gave her a confused glance. "The people who volunteered to watch over you here would like to go over a few things."

The idea that human beings actually _volunteered _to watch over the teenage band was enough to surprise them all. What possessed the adults to willingly work at this campsite?

"They won't even last a day," Clone muttered to herself.

A man who appeared as though he had been smiling for too long gave the band a creepy grin. He looked like he had put on clothes a few sizes too small for his body. Girls subconsciously inched away from the front and hushed whispers began to form.

"My name is Shirley," the man said seriously. The band tried to hide their snickers. What guy had the name _Shirley? _Everyone wondered what kind of sick, twisted mother would name her son that. Before the teenagers could thoroughly make fun of the name, Shirley continued, "and I'm the head and founder of this camp. It's mainly used as a summer program, but school groups have come in the fall for field trips before."

"Who wants to bet five bucks that we're one of the only schools to stay here?" Lydia eyed the concrete parking lot wearily, which was covered in cigarette butts and random candy wrappers.

"I'll make it ten," Rachel mumbled in reply. She stepped over an empty Monster can and cautiously got closer to the group.

"The people who volunteer here, including myself, make sure that the cabins are clean and the activities are enjoyable enough for our guests," Shirley explained with his never ending smile. He turned to look at the adults surrounding him. "Speaking of our wonderful volunteers, let's introduce them, shall we?"

The less scary volunteers stepped forward to be seen by the crowd. One by one they introduced themselves as Mark, Debbie, Shelly, Amanda, Shane, and Elizabeth. By the time Elizabeth was finished, the teenagers were practically falling asleep or attempting to hurt themselves with the many crushed Pepsi cans lying around.

"Oh! Sorry about that! I didn't mean to exclude you," Shirley suddenly gushed, pushing another volunteer in plain view. "And last but not least, Weaver!"

The quiet, cued groans did not come. Instead, every band member was completely silent. Weaver was, well...

"McCoy has one _sexy_ cat," Rachel whispered out of no where. She shoved a few of her friends out of the way and stood on her toes. "Move, guys! I need a better look!"

Weaver flashed unnaturally white teeth and waved at the band without hesitating. His hair was a dark brown that appeared in short, wavy layers. His skin was slightly tanned, and his eyes were a strange, piercing emerald. The clothes he was wearing were way too nice to be worn to a camp.

Weaver's friendly gesture was followed by several hushed squeals and girly giggles. The boys merely looked confused, not understanding everyone's sudden mood change.

"What the hell, seriously?" Clone seemed completely disgusted by the band's behavior. "Sure, he's attractive, but really? He looks like a freaking Gary Stu! I can't believe that everyone's throwing themselves at him already!"

"Uh, and when you say everyone, you definitely mean _everyone_, Clone," Rachel said uneasily. She tugged at Clone's sleeve and pointed at Weaver once more. "Take a look."

Clone knitted her eyebrows. "What are you-"

She didn't finish her question because the sight in front of them was too strange for words.

McCoy had somehow materialized beside Weaver and now had a foreign expression on her face.

Wait. Was that a real, sarcasm free _smile?_

"I'm running cabin two, just in case any of you were curious," Weaver told the crowd in a voice fit for an irresistible actor. Several band members blanched as he turned his attention to McCoy. "You're the director of these students, correct?"

McCoy seemed caught off guard that he was actually talking to her. She ran a hand through her messy, brown hair, appearing flustered. "Oh! Um, y-yes. Yes I am," she replied intelligently.

And she was _stuttering? _

"Anyone care to tell me what the hell is going on?" Clone pressed. She almost seemed scared by the situation happening in front of them.

Carly shook her head. "Do you really think any of us have a clue?"

"Well, they seem to be a very well behaved bunch," Weaver continued. Snorts from the crowd followed his 'observation'.

Instead of a snide remark, McCoy returned with simply, "T-They've learned from the best."

Weaver gave her a pearly white smile. "I can see that."

"Can anyone else see what's happening right now?" Clone looked from one band member to the next. "Or am I just imagining that an actual human being is _flirting_ with McCoy?"

"Is it even _possible _for McCoy to flirt?" Shannon, a freshman clarinet player wondered.

Clone hesitantly glanced at the dictator and Weaver. "Apparently so."

Weaver looked over the clipboard Shirley had in his hands. His smile only grew bigger at what the piece of paper said. "And I'm guessing that you're in charge of cabin one."

McCoy responded with a girly 'yeah' that made every teenager look at each other with confusion. This side of the band director was just plain weird. Where had her sarcastic, kick-ass attitude gone?

"Good to know," Weaver finished, beginning to find his way out of the crowd. "Shirley wants me to go get some things done, so I have to go." He gave the nearest row of high school students a wave. "See you later!" The farewell was meant to look directed toward the teenagers, but his quick glance at McCoy said otherwise.

Clone rolled her eyes, and began, "I know a douche bag when I see one, and that particular idiot is-"

"Okay then!" Shirley's voice blocked out all other conversations. Rachel giggled at the deathly glare Clone sent in his direction. "I would now like to advise everyone to go find their cabins and get unpacked. Tonight we have a cookout planned by the lake. There I will explain further on the activities you'll participate in these next few days." His miniature speech ended with another creepy grin, and he turned to leave the parking lot.

As soon as he was away from the group, conversations began to take form again.

McCoy shushed everyone and motioned for them to follow her. "Come on, guys! I don't think anyone wants to stand in this crap hole all day." In a matter of moments, she appeared to be her normal self again.

Rachel retrieved her heavy luggage off the ground and began to slowly shuffle out of the area. "Well, this has certainly been an interesting start to our field trip," she pointed out. She turned her gaze to the sky. "Let's see: We have some gay dude named Shirley that runs the camp, this place is the sheer definition of 'untidy', cabin two gets a sexy chaperon, and McCoy is suddenly bipolar. Interesting enough."

"At least he's not a creeper," Gabby said quietly.

Clone spun around to look at the saxophone player, who is one of her many claimed freshmen. "He's a creeper for trying to flirt with McCoy! _No one _does that. It's not normal."

"Maybe he's just attracted to women who are obsessed with megaphones and coffee," Rachel tried to joke. She frowned when Clone's expression remained blank. "Okay, yeah, obviously none of us are fond of the thought of McCoy dating someone. But you know we wouldn't let that happen. It would be too weird."

"I really hope McCoy was just brain dead for a minute or two," Clone grumbled.

Lydia glanced over her shoulder to look at the band members. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm more concerned about seeing our cabin. Hopefully it won't look like crap."

"We don't need to worry about that." Clone smiled and patted her giant suitcase. "I've brought some things just in case we need to redecorate."

Rachel smirked. "Like hair brushes?"

"...It's going to be very hard not to kill you on this trip."


	3. Operation GMAFSGWHO?

Things weren't looking too bright for the high school band students or their field trip. It was definitely _not _looking well once they figured out the location of the cabins.

They were led into the nearby woods by McCoy and several other volunteers who were brave enough to come along. Weaver was no where to be found, for he disappeared shortly after his weird conversation with the band director. The teenagers were relieved by his absence. They weren't in the mood to see McCoy flirt with some hot guy that appeared only minutes before. In fact, none of them were willing to experience that ever again. Seeing McCoy flustered by the sight of a guy was awkward, to say the least.

All the hope drained from the band students' faces once they saw the cabins' condition. Most of the cabins were almost hidden under thick tree branches, blending in with the surrounding bark. Some of the doors were barely attached to their hinges, swinging back and forth in the light wind. Windows were broken, and glass lay shattered on the porch that each identical cabin had. A worn, rusted plaque with a single number on it rested on the door of each miniature house.

McCoy paused when they reached the first set of buildings, causing the rest of the group to stop. "If any of you wander off and hurt yourselves in unusual ways, don't come crying to me!" she shouted, dismissing the people around her. "But please, _don't. _I really don't want to be the one held responsible if you fall off a cliff or stab yourself with a sharp rock."

"But I love sharp objects!" Morgan complained from the middle of the crowd. The band once again failed to hold in their laughter.

"Well, hurt yourself with sharp objects at home. If you love me, you won't do it here," McCoy replied with a straight face.

"I'm sorry McCoy, but there's someone else," Hannah admitted, randomly locking arms with Marianne. "You should've came to me sooner."

"You have completely and utterly broken my heart, Hannah. There are no words to describe my pain."

"McCoy's an emo!" came a yell from the back of the group. No one had to look to know that it was Ethan.

"All right, whatever!" McCoy turned to walk away. "Everyone go find your assigned cabins without causing any destruction!"

The roar of voices began all at once, filling the forest with an unbelievable amount of noise. The teenagers scattered, running off in all directions with one another. The cabins were close together, which meant hopping from house to house wouldn't be difficult.

McCoy now stood in the middle of the students that remained: Carly, Lydia, Rachel, Clone, Scarlett, and Jackie. "Okay," she began, scanning her clipboard closely. "Unfortunately, it appears that you children are staying with me."

"I think you've mixed up your words," Jackie decided. The junior saxophone player was known for her strange personality. "You should be very fortunate to have us, of all people, watch you sleep."

McCoy raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"Gotta go!" Jackie sprinted off toward their cabin, which was now only a few feet away. Without another word, she disappeared inside the dark doorway.

The dictator shook her head, writing something down on the clipboard. "I will never understand any of you people," she mumbled to herself.

Scarlett cracked a grin. "Cheer up, McCoy. At least you don't have Morgan or Josh in your cabin."

"...Have I ever told you guys how grateful I am to have you in my marching band?"

"No, but we like the compliments," Clone said, trying not to laugh. "Keep 'em coming."

"Not a chance." McCoy began to make her way over to the run down 'shack' they were going to be staying in. "Now, I expect you all to give me some peace while we unpack. Is that too difficult?"

"Depends. Are you planning on inviting that volunteer named Weaver over while we do so?"

Everyone turned their attention to Clone, giving her a wild look. Why was she even mentioning the mysterious man? They had hoped that everyone would try to forget his existence completely.

McCoy's expression remained blank. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Good." Clone started to roll her suitcase through the mass of dead leaves on the ground. "We won't bother you, then."

The band director didn't reply, and instead followed silently behind the small group of students.

"Clone, what were you trying to do?" Rachel asked, catching up with her counterpart's quick pace. "I really hoped that McCoy would forget about him, but if you're going to test her like _that_, she's never going to get his sexiness out of her head." She shook her head sadly. "It would be impossible, I'm afraid."

Clone twisted up her face in disgust as she climbed up the unsteady steps to the cabin's porch. "I'm not trying to do that," she tried to explain. She dropped her heavy suitcase in front of the doorway, sending a loud _thump! _throughout the small area. "I just wanted to make sure she wasn't thinking about bringing him to our cabin of all places. That would be... ugh! I can't even talk about it."

"You have to remember that she only met him less than twenty minutes ago," Rachel pointed out, lowering her voice. Thankfully McCoy seemed more interested in her iPhone than their current conversation. "And she seems to be back in her 'I-could-care-less' state. I don't think we have anything to worry about."

"Well, Clone, I'm glad you feel that way," the senior flutist glanced at McCoy, who was laughing stupidly at something on her phone, "because I'm really freaked out."

"McCoy was merely overwhelmed by his sexiness, just like the rest of us."

"I certainly wasn't." Clone wrinkled her nose and swung open the door to their cabin. Putting one foot inside, she paused. A second later she spun around, facing her friends again. "Okay. Either Jackie died in here, or some other decomposing thing somehow got inside."

McCoy snapped her head up from her iPhone when the words _'decomposing thing' _were uttered. "You've got to be kidding me," she said to herself, pushing past the teenagers surrounding the doorway. She hurried inside, disappearing into the nearest room.

"It smells like shit," Clone commented quietly. She gave Rachel a serious glance. "No lie."

"Maybe it's Weaver," Carly suggested.

"Good guess. I wouldn't be surprised."

McCoy emerged from the shadows, giving everyone a displeased look. "Apparently the idiots who stayed before us found it necessary to leave food lying around," she said experasededly. "I had to stop Jackie from eating it."

Clone put a head to her head. "Wonderful. Another thing to add on my 'Why-I-Don't-Want-To-Be-Here' list. I just find it funny that we were told that this place is sanitary."

"Do you know how disgusting this is going to be?" Lydia inched away from the open door. "We're going to have to _sleep _here. I don't know about you guys, but I don't think sleeping near moldy snacks for three days is going to be enjoyable."

"Relax, guys," McCoy attempted to calm everyone down. She looked absolutely exhausted; the expression she wore was one that the whole band is familiar with: she needed coffee. Now. "It won't take us that long to clean the cabin. It's not that big, so it shouldn't be hard."

"Well, just to warn everyone, I'm redecorating. From what I've seen already, it looks like we're staying in some dirty chicken coop," Clone informed them.

"How are hair brushes going to make our cabin actually look appealing?" Rachel wondered.

"...If I wasn't extremely nauseated right now, I would punch you in the face."

* * *

They soon found out that there were only four beds for six people. Once everyone realized this, they rushed to claim their own. Rachel and Lydia ended up clawing at each other, grinning idiotically as they tried to sit on the nearest bed first. This resulted in all of the sheets on the floor and the best friends trying to push one another out of the way. As expected, Rachel lost due to her lack of muscle and she was forced to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. She was not alone, though, for McCoy had not been able to claim a bed either.

"All right, someone has to give up their bed _right now,_" McCoy demanded. She was in pissed-off mode, standing with her eyes narrowed and her hands on her hips.

Rachel brightened. "So I _don't _have to sleep on the floor with the nasty food?"

"What are you talking about? I'm trying to get _myself _a bed."

The freshman clarinet looked offended for a moment, but then she faked sadness and ran over to Clone. "People are not being nice!" she complained, throwing her arms around the taller girl.

Clone stood stiff, clutching her bed's comforter for dear life. "Don't expect me to feel sorry for you and give up my bed." She quickly pushed her Clone away. "But McCoy, really, why can't you just sleep on the floor?"

"Because I'm the dictator," was McCoy's only response.

"...That doesn't even make any sense."

Jackie threw her hands in the air. "Fine! You can have my bed!" She stepped away from it, gesturing to its availability. "Besides, it would be way more fun to sleep _under _someone's bed. It would be awesome to grab their ankles in the middle of the night."

Everyone involuntarily moved away from her.

Without a thank you, McCoy mobilized to the bed Jackie gave up. She quietly sat upon it, beginning to text someone. This was the sign that she no longer wanted to be spoken to.

"So I guess I still have to go without a bed." Rachel huffed, stomping over to the nearest corner of the cabin. "Fine. I claim this spot as my Emo Corner, where I will sleep for the next three days."

"You have fun with that." Clone looked amused. "I saw cockroaches over there earlier."

Rachel was back over to her Clone in an instant, hugging her arm. She looked up at her sheepishly. "Can we all go somewhere that isn't here?" she asked whoever was listening.

McCoy didn't take her eyes off her iPhone, but responded with, "Are you all unpacked?"

Everyone mumbled an unexcited 'yes'. The cabin was currently a jumbled mess of the nasty, leftover food from the previous school group and the items the band students had brought with them. Clothes and other portable essentials lay scattered in the strangest places. Underwear was on top of lamps, toothbrushes were stuffed in drawers, deodorant was stashed behind pillows, and clothing covered every inch of space available in the cramped room.

"Then I don't care. I'll get someone to come over here and clean this crap up." McCoy brought her gaze to the open bag of Doritos at her feet before returning her attention to her latest text message.

The teenagers sighed with relief. The stench was starting to get bad, and hardly anyone could breathe even _with _the cabin door wide open. They said a quick farewell to the band director before making their way outside of the torture chamber. What awaited them were strange sights: Morgan trying to tie himself to one of the porch's posts for what appeared to be no reason, Heather singing at the top of her lungs by her cabin, band members chasing each other with a water hose, and Riley smelling his shoe.

They didn't react to these things, for stranger situations have occurred before in band. But what they did react to was Weaver coming out of cabin two, waving goodbye to the people that stood inside. Despite his normal appearance, the teenagers of cabin one weren't about to let him out of their sight.

"Here comes the cat whore," Scarlett whispered, narrowing her eyes at his profile. "Should we check on the guys in cabin two, just in case he did something to them?"

"I don't think it's worth it," Clone disagreed. "He only appears to be after one person."

Rachel smiled nervously. "And when you say that, you mean it. Don't look now, but he's headed in the direction of our cabin."

"_What_?"

The five other high school students turned their attention in Weaver's direction again. At first, he had appeared to be walking out of the area in which the small cluster of cabins lay, but now he was most definitely thinking about entering cabin one.

"Oh _hell _no. If he thinks he's going to get in there alive, then he's seriously wrong," Clone said, gritting her teeth. "There's no way we're going to let him inside. Come on."

The group of teenagers tried to appear inconspicuously walking at first, but as Weaver got closer, they quickened their pace to a full blown run. Rachel got there first, hopping up on the steps and leaning her weight against the porch's support beam. Weaver stopped abruptly in front of her, a confusion expression making its way on his face.

"Oh! Hey, Weaver! I didn't see you there," she said unconvincingly with an anxious grin. Her smile faltered when she saw her Clone smack herself on the forehead close by.

Despite the strange greeting that Rachel gave him, Weaver managed a smile. "Hey. I believe we haven't properly met yet. What's your name?"

"I'm Jenna," Rachel blurted out of no where. She tried not to wince as her Clone mouthed, _'What the hell? Are you serious?'. _She responded with a look that hopefully said, _'I panicked!'._

"Well, _Jenna, _I came here to give the camp's activity schedule to your band director. Shirley wasn't very clear with what we're planning to do, and-"

"Her name is _McCoy,_" Clone interrupted, stepping in beside Rachel.

Weaver looked completely lost. "Her first name's McCoy?"

"No! It's..." Clone gave Rachel an annoyed glance and continued, "Ugh, never mind! But anyway, if you wanted to give her the schedule, you should have-"

McCoy suddenly appeared outside the doorway, finishing typing up another text message. Her eyes were still on the phone's screen as she said, "I thought you guys were going somewhere else? I really don't want screaming kids outside my door right now, so-" She looked up from her iPhone and stopped in mid sentence. All of her exhaustion disappeared at the sight of Weaver. Suddenly she looked nervous again, and lowered the phone away from her face. "Oh, um... Hi Weaver. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I originally came over to give you the activities list, but then I started to talk to your students," Weaver explained. "They're very well behaved."

"Are you serious?" Carly asked.

At that moment, Ethan decided to run by screaming, and someone that looked like Clay was poking his head out of Ethan's massive 'ruck sack'.

"Yes," Weaver replied, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. "Your band director made the right choice to bring you on a field trip."

"Y-You can call me Jenna," McCoy sputtered out of no where.

Weaver looked at Rachel, and began, "But isn't she-"

"Oh! Look at the time! McCoy, you told us you were going to take us to the lake now, remember?" Clone quickly interrupted. The band students were starting to get desperate. They couldn't let Weaver and McCoy converse any further.

"I never told you I was going anywhere," McCoy pointed out, momentarily glancing away from Weaver to look at Clone. "I said I was staying in the cabin until someone decided to come and clean the mess up."

"What mess?" Weaver questioned.

McCoy gave him a nervous smile. "Oh, it's not that big of a deal. It's a long story, and-"

"If it's a really big problem, I could go get some other workers and we could come clean it up for you."

Despite the fact that everyone wanted the disgusting food out of their cabin as soon as possible, they weren't too fond of the idea that _Weaver _was going to get rid of it. It was already bad enough that he had made it to the cabin's front porch.

"You really don't have to do that," McCoy assured the volunteer. "We can clean it up ourselves to save you the trouble."

"No, but I want too." Weaver grinned again. "And afterward, how about we go eat somewhere?"

Clone looked like she was about to explode. "McCoy, we should _really _get to the lake now. I heard that Morgan was going swimming but he forgot his innertub and..." She paused, and stared into space. "Gah! I give up!" Sulking off to a nearby bush, she plopped down beside it. She had run out of excuses.

McCoy appeared as though someone had just asked her if she ever thought about being a pole dancer. Her response came out as inauible stutters, and after a few moments, she finally got out, "O-Okay."

The teenagers hung their heads in defeat. It was undeniable: McCoy had just sold her soul to a guy she met only an hour ago.

"Great!" Weaver began to head off to who knows where. "I'll be back in a bit with some more volunteers!"

Once he was out of earshot, Clone cautiously made her way back to the huddle by the porch. She glanced at Weaver's faraway form before turning to the band director. "McCoy... What's going on?"

"What are you talking about?" McCoy returned her attention to her iPhone and retreated back inside the cabin without another word.

Silence.

"I don't like bipolar McCoy," Carly decided to say.

Clone sighed, settling herself down on the wooden steps. "Oh, yeah? Well, neither does anyone else."

"Guys, we have to stop this," Rachel said worriedly. "There's no way we can let McCoy date _anyone._"

"And what genius plan do you have up your sleeve? Come up with fake names for one another like 'Jenna'?"

Rachel glared at her Clone. "Shut up. But seriously, we can't just sit around here all day. We have to follow them when they go out to eat later. We can't let this happen!"

"So now we're spies?" Jackie looked way too excited about the idea.

"Er... if that's what you want to call it, then yes."

"But how would we even get away with that?" Clone looked at each band member. "As we just found out, we're not that good about telling lies or looking innocent."

Rachel shrugged. "I have no clue. But we have to stop this somehow. I know for a fact that none of us want Weaver to show up at our games and flirt with McCoy the whole time."

This seemed to affect Clone in some way, for she immediately stood up. "You're right," she agreed. "Whether any of you like it or not, this field trip is about to become a mission."

"Operation Get McCoy Away From Sexy Guy Without Hurting Ourselves is now in session!" Rachel declared, putting her hands on her hips.

"...You're seriously going to call it that?"

"Yes. Why?"

"...Whatever. Operation GMAFSGWHO is now underway! Ugh, why can't we use an acronym we can actually pronounce?"

"Because we're too cool, that's why."


	4. What Do We Do Now?

Although their cabin was much cleaner and didn't smell like dying animals now, the six band members couldn't sit still. McCoy had wandered off about a half hour ago, rambling on about how she had to get some chips and coffee or she'd collapse. It took her a while to leave her spot in the cabin, though, for the teenagers were worried about where she'd end up. It was bad enough that they had to deal with Weaver in their cabin for an hour or so. Every smile and look he gave McCoy made them cringe. It only made the situation worse when the band director abandoned her iPhone completely to giggle with Weaver. It was so strange to the point where it came across disturbing. The students sat in the far corner of the cabin, trying to tune out all that was said between McCoy and Weaver. The cleaning of the cabin seemed to last years, and Weaver and the volunteers finally left, they felt like they had been released from a cramped cage.

Once McCoy escaped the cabin in search of food, the six teenagers crawled out of the corner and sat in their respective sides of the room. An awkward silence dragged on as they relived the terrifying moments between McCoy and Weaver.

"I feel like we can't do anything fun now," Lydia admitted, studying one of Clone's hair brushes to pass the time. "Especially since McCoy will probably be distracted this whole trip."

Clone silently retrieved her hair brush, which was decorated with Toy Story characters. Rachel stared at it with envy across the room. "But we're not going to let that happen," the senior reminded Lydia. "We're going to make sure that McCoy spends as much time with us as possible, no matter how difficult this situation gets. I mean, I can't imagine her with a guy rather than trying to stop the band from doing something stupid."

Rachel winced. "The thought the quite horrifying. But really, we need to find out more about this Weaver guy. There's no way that he's as nice as he appears."

"I'm just wondering where McCoy's brain is!" Clone sighed, putting her head in her hands. "If she was her normal self, she would have said _'hell no!' _to Weaver and possibly ran away."

"Maybe his sexiness has blinded her, just as it has blinded us," Carly suggested. Everyone gave her a deathly glare. "What? He would seem nice to me if he wasn't hitting on McCoy, of all people."

"This is so insane. We can't let Weaver take her out to dinner tonight and seduce her any further!" Clone's expression was serious.

Rachel tried not to laugh, but failed. "Heehee... You said 'seduce'."

"So? That's practically what he's doing!"

"I know, but..." The freshman grinned idiotically. "The thought of McCoy being seduced is hilarious."

Clone made a face and quickly corrected herself, "Okay, ew! Never mind! Instead of talking about this particular thing, let's actually come up with a plan."

"You know... Maybe it would help if we actually knew _where _they're going to eat," Jackie randomly said.

Everyone stared at her like she belonged in the asylum up at OU's campus. How didn't they think of that?

"Um, yes, Jackie. That would really help." Clone put a hand to her forehead. "If we're really this clueless, then I have no idea how this is going to work."

"We also seem to have forgotten about the cookout that Shirley mentioned," Scarlett put in.

"_Crap! _If we follow McCoy and Weaver to where ever tonight, everyone's going to wonder where we went!"

"Maybe we could split up," Carly suggested. "Three of us go stalk McCoy and Weaver, and the other three can stay here for the cookout. They can make up some retarded excuse as to why the rest of us disappeared."

Clone grinned at Carly. "And just for that idea, you get to come with me to stalk them. Clone, you're also coming, because I don't trust you to stay here."

"Awesome!"

"As much as I love stalking McCoy, I'm offended that you don't trust me," Rachel pouted from her Emo Corner. She picked a piece of lint off the floor and continued, "But whatever. I'm in."

"I don't really trust anyone in this room, but you're coming anyway." Clone turned her gaze to Lydia, Jackie and Scarlett. "I want you three to go to the cookout and act as natural as possible. We can't let anyone know that anything is up. Lydia, please don't do the Funk creepily. Scarlett, I'm not too worried about you. Jackie, don't... please don't do anything at all, okay?"

Jackie looked disappointed. "But I wanted to show my Donald Duck ringtone to everyone."

"Do you even care about the youth of America? ...Then again, the band is pretty messed up already."

"So is that a yes?"

"_NO_! You scarred my freshmen for life!"

Jackie fake sobbed and crawled under the nearest bed which happened to be McCoy's. Everyone silently wondered if she would remain there for the rest of the evening _and _night.

Clone awkwardly cleared her throat and said, "All right then. Let's go get McCoy and find out where the crap she's eating tonight. Then we can do whatever before operation GMAFSGWHO really begins."

"You know there's only one place that McCoy could be," Rachel told everyone.

Clone nodded. "Where the disgusting camp food is held."

* * *

Even though the rest of the band was doing unusual things, the six teenagers of cabin one sneaked out of the wooded area like ninjas. Lydia and Jackie found it necessary to hide behind trees and roll around on the muddy ground. Terribly sung action music was also included. Clone pretended like she didn't know them as they made their way to the middle of the campsite.

"Okay." Clone inspected the area. What stood in front of them were some offices, storage buildings, and what appeared to be the mess hall. All of these structures looked almost as bad as the run down cabins. "I'm guessing this building," she gestured to the mess hall, "is where we'll be eating and where McCoy is currently residing."

"I hope these volunteers are aware of the chaos that will ensue from all of us eating in the same room," Rachel said.

"They were already stupid enough to volunteer, so I'm guessing that they don't."

"If we want to get anything done, we better go in now," Scarlett pointed out. She wrinkled her nose and stared at the area wearily. "Besides, I'm not too fond about standing in this particular spot."

"All right, let's go. I'm curious about the disgusting environment we're going to be eating in," Lydia said, walking ahead of the group.

They opened the mess hall doors to find empty benches where food would soon be prepared for guests. Cooks and volunteers hurried in and out of other rooms, most likely preparing for the upcoming cookout. The building was silent until the teenagers heard quiet music.

There was McCoy, playing that ridiculous game about slinging birds on her iPhone. She grinned at the screen, thoroughly amused at the thought of evil pigs being destroyed by random birds. She sipped from a cup of coffee and grabbed some chips from their bag occasionally. She appeared to be in her happy place, a place the band students didn't think existed.

"Who's going to question her?" Lydia whispered.

"I don't know, guys." Clone looked at McCoy with pity. "She looks calm for once. Do you really think we should bother her?"

Rachel gave her counterpart a bewildered look. "...Who are you and what have you done with Rachel Ditmer?"

"You're right. Let's go bug her."

The six band students tip toed over to McCoy, who strangely hadn't noticed their presence yet. She was completely absorbed in her pointless iPhone game.

With a smile on her face, Rachel took one final step behind the dictator. She mouthed, _'Watch and learn!' _to her friends before screaming, "Hey, _McCoy_!"

McCoy's hands had some sort of spaz attack, for she threw the phone clear across the huge room. Less than a second later, her elbow met with her coffee cup and the drink she so dearly loved spilled all over the table. Instead of going to retrieve the device she flung, the director held her ear. Turning her students, she said, "Have you guys planned made up holidays? Because from what just happened, I'm pretty sure today was proclaimed 'Bust Ms. McCoy's Eardrum Day'."

Clone, who had been staring at the phone's distance away from them in fascination, snapped her head back to McCoy. "I don't believe so. However, I can see made up holidays being created by the band."

"We'll have to remember that!" Jackie said with excitement. "I call 'Take People's Stuff Day'!"

"...Jackie, you do that everyday."

"_Exactly._"

Everyone looked at her for a moment before returning their attention to the current subject.

"Well, was that the only reason why you people came here?" McCoy asked, glaring at the mess of coffee wearily. "If so, then I'll be tending to this destruction and-"

"_No_!" Rachel randomly blurted.

McCoy gave her a look that was a cross between annoyance and amusement. "No what?"

"We didn't come here to destroy your iPhone or make it look like you just wet yourself," Rachel admitted.

"What? I don't-" The band director paused, looked down, and then sighed heavily. "_Great. _I just bought these pants a week ago."

"That's not the point!" The freshman looked as though she'd continue, but instead of doing so, she pushed Clone in front of her. "...And the actual point will be told by my Clone!"

Clone whipped her head around to face Rachel. "_What? _You've got to be kidding me!"

"Seniority," her freshman said at random.

McCoy was beginning to look bored. "Spit it out, then! Not only do I have to clean this mess, but now I also have to find a way to get coffee stains out of clothes."

"_Fine._" Clone appeared to be serious, but then she asked, "Is that a new sweater?"

Rachel glared at her. "_Rachel Caroline Ditmer. _Tell her why we're really here!"

"Ugh, all right! McCoy, where the crap are you going to go eat tonight?"

The dictator's expression changed from bored to... nervous? She turned her gaze away from the teenagers to stare at the coffee puddle awkwardly. "Why do you care?"

"Because we..." Scarlett looked from person to person, hoping that they would give her answer. They merely looked at everything but her. "Because we thought it would be fun to go somewhere to eat on this trip...?"

McCoy face read skepticism, and everyone held their breaths as they waited for an answer. Suddenly she replied, "Oh. Well, maybe that could be arranged. If you must know, I'm eating at McDonald's."

Silence.

Insane, roaring laughter filled the room moments later. McCoy was going to _McDonald's _for a date? Who was this Weaver guy, anyway?

"What?" McCoy looked like an angered child sitting at the mess hall table. "I don't understand the hilarity of this situation."

"Who goes to a crappy fast food restaurant for a _date?" _Clone managed to say through fits of giggles. Rachel was currently dying of laughter on her arm, clinging to her for support. Lydia, Carly, and Scarlett were almost falling on top of each other trying to catch their breath, while Jackie merely looked confused.

Out of no where, McCoy pounded her fist on the table, sending a resounding _'boom' _throughout the hall. The six teenagers silenced themselves at once. "_It is not a date," _she hissed in a voice that was foreign to the high schoolers. She sounded like some alien that was seriously pissed. Grabbing what was left over of her chips, she glared at the most likely broken iPhone on the floor, then stomped out the door.

The slam of the doubles doors to the building echoed several times, causing an awkward silence to unfold in the small group. McCoy's random response to their laughter was really strange. They were expecting her to just make fun of them in return, or roll her eyes and say, "I'm surrounded by idiots". What caused her to react so... out of character?

"We have officially pissed off McCoy," Clone declared, her gaze still on the doors. "Do not go within thirty feet of her for the next hour. Limbs might be lost."

Carly gently picked up the dictator's iPhone, pointing to its cracked screen. "The evil pigs and birds are no more."

"Why did she leave it?" Scarlett wondered. "She acts like that phone is her baby or something."

"Laziness?" Rachel hoped.

Clone shook her head. "No. If McCoy was actually _in _character, she would have rushed to its side, started petting it, and then proceed to mutter incoherent things to herself. Ever since Weaver decided to make his grand entrance, she hasn't been the same."

Jackie randomly gasped and everyone turned to look at her. "Weaver's a shape shifter!" she shouted.

Silence.

"Jackie, if it's all right if I ask... What are you on?" Clone asked seriously.

"I'm not telling you! _Hah!" _Without warning, the possibly insane junior ran out of the building.

"Guys, I'm worried about how McCoy would react if we stalked her at," Lydia paused to snicker, "_McDonald's._"

"I am too," Clone admitted. "She freaked out when we just mentioned that it was date, so I can't imagine what she'll say if she catches us spying on her."

"But we still have to follow them! Even though it's McDonald's_, _something could happen_ afterward_!" Rachel pointed out.

Clone gave the freshman clarinet player a death glare and pushed her away. "Thank you for ruining my life once again. I did not need that thought or the many images that came with it."

"Despite McCoy's sudden insanity, we need to stalk them tonight," Scarlett decided.  
"I'm not too fond of the idea that this trip is going to turn into a weird mission, but it has to be done. We can't let this crap happen."

Clone strode over to the double doors, opening them immediately. "Let's get going, then. The cookout is in a few hours and they should be leaving for McDonald's at that time. Planning isn't our forte, as all of you know, so we have to do the best we can with the time available."

"You do realize that there's still three days left in this trip... right?" Rachel asked cautiously. "Imagine how much could happen here."

Clone glared at her. "I'd rather not. It makes me want to burn your face."

"...Once again, you're not making sense."

"This whole situation makes no sense, so I win."

Rachel sighed dramatically and inched through the doorway. "I give up."

* * *

"She wants to kill us, guys."

"...Carly, she's eating a cupcake and talking to Na'Tyra. She's not even looking in our direction."

"I think you need to take a trip to an optometrist, Rachel Ditmer, because she is obviously burning a hole through our faces."

"Ugh! Everything's okay! She only got pissed because we were being, well...annoying. It's what we do best."

The six teenagers were now back inside their cabin, staring obsessively out the nearest window. McCoy was only a few feet away from the porch, conversing with Nike and eating a random cupcake. Her expression was blank, as usual, so none of the nervous band students could figure out her mood. It was almost time for the cookout Shirley planned, so McCoy was slowly gathering up the high schoolers around her. Much to their dismay, she had not spoken to the teenagers she was responsible for in cabin one. That wasn't a good sign.

"Are we even allowed to leave?" Lydia whispered, standing on her toes to see out of the cob webbed window.

"Of course we are! We don't need McCoy to tell us when we can and can't do things," Clone assured her. "In fact, why don't you, Scarlett, and Jackie head out now? We need to get this plan started. If McCoy or anyone else questions our absence, tell them we all got sick and we're not coming."

"Do you really think they'll believe that?" Rachel asked.

"Do you _really _think they care?"

"...True."

"Okay then." Clone turned to face the little huddled group. "You guys get going, and Carly, Clone and I will continue to spy on McCoy until she leaves."

"Why can't we go with you?" Jackie whined.

Clone stared at her blankly. "I think you're forgetting that there's food at a cookout."

"..._See ya_!"

In a split second, Jackie was out the door and running off the porch. She pushed past McCoy and Nike, who gave her bewildered looks in return.

"Well," Clone sighed, gesturing toward Lydia and Scarlett, "You guys better follow her before she hurts herself or someone else."

"Right," Scarlett muttered, stepping onto the porch outside. "We'll catch up with you guys later." She waved her cell phone over her shoulder. "Let me know what's going on with the bastard once you leave."

"Will do!" Carly replied with a grin.

Clone merely turned her gaze to the floor, disgusted at the thought of Weaver. Lydia quickly followed Scarlett, slamming the screen door behind her.

Silence enveloped the small cabin soon afterward. The remaining three girls stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching a scuttling spider or picking at their nails. It was as if now that the time to take action had come, none of them knew what to do next. Suddenly, the strange, cow-like noise of Rachel's phone vibrating broke the unsettling silence.

The freshman clarinet player quickly fished it out of her pocket, staring blankly at its tiny screen. After a moment, her eyes widened and she shoved the device in Carly and Clone's faces. "_Read this," _she commanded urgently.

Both of them gave her a weird look before reading the newly arrived text message from Scarlett. With an almost ominous glow, the screen said, '_McCoy's coming to check on you. You might want to act like you're actually sick.'_

"Shit!" Clone cursed, looking frantically around the room. "How are we supposed to look like hell in less than a minute!"

Rachel quickly ruffled her Clone's hair, and the already poofy mass stuck out in all directions. The senior gave her a death glare before diving into her respective bed. Pulling the covers past her chin, she looked as though she were already hiding from the band director.

"Carly, you need to look like you just puked out your guts!" Rachel said, rushing over to her that laid in her Emo Corner. Sticking a hand inside, she began to mumble frantic, incoherent things to herself. "Where is it? I thought-_Yes_!" A bottle of water emerged from the bag, and she held it like a trophy in the air. She returned to Carly's side, who was attempting to mess up her own hair. "Wipe water all over your face!" she ordered, shoving the bottle in Carly's hands.

Carly nodded, unscrewing the cap like her life depended on it. Pouring a bit of water on her hand, she rubbed the liquid all over cheeks and forehead. "I'll go over here!" she declared, entering the disgusting bathroom that everyone was to terrified to go in earlier.

"And I'll crash here!" Rachel planted herself in her own Emo Corner, putting the final to her own appearance. Clone snatched the water bottle before returning to the nearest bed.

All of this occurred in less than two minutes, and as soon as Clone jumped in bed again, the cabin door creaked open.

The three teenagers felt as though the Grim Reaper himself had entered the room, come to put an end to them permanently. Instead, McCoy stood holding the doorknob, a skeptical look making its way on her face. She gave the silent area a good look before closing the door behind her. "All right, what sort of chaos has desended upon us this time?" she asked with her expected edge of sarcasm.

"W-We're sick," Rachel croaked from her sprawled position on the floor. Her eyes wandered over to Clone, who was nervously hiding the water bottle behind her pillow. The freshman clarinet player tried not to smack herself.

McCoy gave her a stare void of any emotion, and the girls feared that lightning or some other painful thing would fly from her eye sockets. "You three looked fine in the mess hall," the dictator pointed out.

"We had some nasty crap after you left," Clone lied from her side of the room. McCoy snapped her head in that direction. "The cooks offered us some new food-God knows what it was-to try because they wanted to see how well the band would like it. We ate whatever the substance was to be nice, and now here we are." She threw in a cough after her explanation for affect.

"I see," McCoy said, narrowing her eyes. "Then why do Scarlett, Jackie, and Lydia appear fine?"

"They were too scared to eat it," Rachel blurted, staggering to stand up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to join Carly in throwing up in the toilet." She put a hand to her forehead and pretended that walking into the other room was difficult.

McCoy sighed as Rachel disappeared into the bathroom, seemingly giving up on her investigation. "Okay, then I guess all three of you better stay up here instead of going to the cookout. I don't think anyone would want you to vomit on their faces."

"Right," Clone agreed, trying not to give the band director a strange look. She failed not to do so when McCoy whipped out a piece of scrap paper and pen.

"If any of you need me, here's my number," McCoy said, finishing her quick scrawl. She handed the paper to Clone before continuing, "I'll be at McDonald's for a while as all of you know. Text me if anyone dies or something."

Clone stared at her with wide eyes, bewildered at the fact that McCoy trusted a band student with her _phone number. _There were so many ways to annoy and embarrass her with such a simple thing. She turned her gaze to the paper, not believing that the digits were actually written there.

"I'll be back later tonight." McCoy waved awkwardly, gave the entrance to the bathroom one final look, then strode out of the cabin.

Silence.

The bathroom door slowly creaked open, and two freshman heads poked out from inside. "Did I hear what I think I just heard?" Carly and Rachel asked in unison.

"McCoy just sold us the key to her humiliation without a second thought," Clone seemed to whisper to herself, not taking her eyes off the paper. "Is she aware of how much we, the band, desire this one number?"

"_And _she believed our half-assed story," Rachel put in, entering the main room. "We won twice in a day!"

"We haven't won yet," Clone reminded them, climbing out of the mess of sheets she made. "We may have won a battle, but not the war. We still have to follow McCoy and Weaver to McDonald's tonight. And now that we have this," she waved the scrap paper around, "things should become easier these next three days."

Carly smiled at the thought. "Then I guess if we want to win the 'war', we better get going, shouldn't we?"

Smoothing down her hair, Clone began to gather up her stuff. "Operation GMAFSGWHO is about to get interesting. Let's go."


	5. Nothing Even Makes Sense

"Guys, part of me _really _wants to go to the cookout and forget about all of this."

"Why? We've gotta keep an eye on McCoy!"

"What if Weaver tries something that's really-"

"I'm going to have to ask you to shut your mouth, Carly."

Rachel, Clone, and Carly huddled close together behind a mass of bushes. They had just watched in horror as McCoy climbed in Weaver's car, which looked strangely futuristic and well polished. She had done so without hesitation, laughing with the creepy chaperon about who knew what. In the band members' eyes, it seemed as though McCoy had just accepted a ride with Satan himself.

Watching the car slowly make its way out of the disgusting parking lot, Clone turned to face her freshmen. "All right. This is where it all begins. Now that Lydia, Jackie, and Scarlett are at the cookout, we can start this mission. I overheard McCoy blabbing about McDonald's shortly before she left, and apparently the restaurant is about two miles up the road."

"With Rachel's speed, we're never going to get there in time!" Carly complained.

Rachel glared at her best friend. "Shut up." Shivering in the cold evening wind, she mumbled, "This is the part in the story where a license would come in handy, Clone. Maybe you should consider getting one sometime."

"Insulting each other isn't going to get us anywhere!" Clone pointed out, trying to ignore her counterpart's statement. "We need to find some transportation, and fast."

"Maybe we could hitch a ride with someone from the band," Rachel suggested. "I'm sure they'd be willing to help."

"No-" Clone was cut off by the wind picking up, and the bush in front of them randomly blew over. She stared at it momentarily before continuing, "No way! I enjoy life, and I don't intend for it to end tonight, thank you very much."

Rachel folded her arms and glared down at the pathetic bush. "Then we're out of options."

The senior flutist sighed in frustration, and turned her body to look in the opposite direction of the freshmen clarinet players. She sat there for a few moments, glowering at the dark woods where their cabins were located. Catching something out of the corner of her eye, her gaze settled on a row of golf carts lined up at the camp's entrance. "Not necessarily," she said, a smile forming at her lips.

* * *

Letting any member of the Jackson Marching Ironmen behind a wheel was a bad idea. A _really _bad idea. Dodging the very few cars on the road to McDonald's was hard enough, and this resulted in screaming and the teenagers cursing at one another. Needless to say it was dark, and seeing objects lying on the side of the curb was difficult.

"Clone, you're only supposed to stay in _one _lane!" was Clone's current screech as they attempted to drive the golf carts. "You're going to get yourself-or all of us-killed!"

Rachel swerved around Carly's cart before shouting back, "I apologize that I'm only 14 and haven't had a single hour of Driver's Ed!"

"That's not a very good argument!" Carly pitched in, trying to get away from Rachel's out of control vehicle. "I can drive this just fine, and I'm in the same position as you!"

"How about we all just shut up and drive?" Rachel whipped her head back to see a bag of golf clubs tumble out of the cart and onto the road. Gripping her hands tighter on the wheel, she screamed, "_Joy_! This is so much fun!"

"Just stay calm!" Clone hissed, driving in front of the two freshmen. "I'm starting to see some lights! We should be there soon!"

"If we're not there in the next thirty seconds, I _will _murder someone!"

Clone glanced back at Rachel to give her a smirk. "At least the green car isn't driving with us! It would be way ahead!"

"_Shut up_!"

The rest of the drive lasted only for a few minutes, and consisted of more bickering about the green car and Rachel's driving skills. They finally saw McDonald's giant arch sign on the side of the road, and pulled into the restaurant's parking lot without hesitation. The building and a nearby gas station were the only visible structures in sight. As the band students cautiously climbed out of the golf carts, they received some strange stares from civilized costumers coming out of the restaurant.

"This is just great," Rachel grumbled, making sure that nothing else had fallen out of the back of her cart. "First I almost crash onto the side of the road, and now people are looking at us like we belong at the Ridges."

"But people always look at us like that," Clone pointed out. She put a reassuring hand on her clone's shoulder. "Besides, how could this day get any worse?"

"Why is it that every time you say that, something worse _does _happen?" Rachel asked wearily.

"If we just hang low and be quiet, this night might actually be a success. Now, come on."

The three band students inched around parked cars, peeking over them in case McCoy or Weaver would randomly appear. After a few minutes of sneaking around like ninjas, they approached the fast food restaurant's main entrance.

"Who's going in first?" Carly wondered, nervously glancing up at her friends.

"I don't think waltzing in casually is the best idea," Clone said. "McCoy would immediately see us, yell loudly, and then ruin the rest of our trip by doing something evil."

Rachel groaned in frustration. "This is stupid! It's not like-" She paused to stare at a McDonald's employee walking to the back of the building with an arm full of boxes. Smiling sweetly, she continued, "Excuse me for a moment."

The freshman clarinet player dashed in the employee's direction, catching the man before he could go any further. She stopped him by saying, "Hey! You!"

The employee, who couldn't have been older than 19, turned to look at her. His face read confusion as he answered, "Uh, yeah?"

"Do you think I'd be able to fit in one of those?" she asked seriously, gesturing to the employee's armfull of boxes.

The young adult looked absolutely lost. He turned his gaze back to the supplies he was holding, as if he were actually contemplating Rachel's question. "Uh, maybe. This one's completely full of napkins, but-"

Clone was there in an instant, stepping in front of her clueless freshman. She gave her a stern look before saying, "I'm sorry, what my friend meant to ask was: Can you let us in the back entrance of the restaurant?"

Rachel gave her clone a displeased expression. "You're no fun."

"Well, I guess I could. But why can't you guys just go in the front way?" The employee craned his neck, and appeared surprised at the sight of Carly behind Clone.

"We, er, kinda have a problem," Carly tried to explain.

"We're hiding from our band director," Rachel flat out told him. Clone and Carly whirled to face her, and gave her a look that hopefully said, _'Shut up!'._

Instead of walking away, the employee looked almost like he understood them. Nodding, he replied, "Oh, I get you. My band director was always strict-Still a cool dude, though." Putting a tighter grip on the boxes, he reached out his hand for them to shake. "Tenor sax. Nice you meet you guys."

In shock, the band students one by one accepted his friendly handshake. Band alumni-They're everywhere.

"Now, what's your problem?" The former band member asked.

"Let's just say our director is at risk of, er," Clone quickly glanced at her freshmen before finishing, "_being in a relationship_." She said the words as if she were describing a serious disease.

The alum's eyes widened and he was headed to the back entrance in less than a second. "Why didn't you say so? I'll get you in there!"

The friends exchanged relieved looks before following the employee to the other side of the restaurant. Darkness made it hard to see, and Rachel nearly tripped over an empty Mountain Dew can. They stopped at a door beside the drive thru line, and the former band member opened in for them.

He pointed to the entrance's availability and told them, "Go ahead and go on in."

Clone gave him a sincere smile in return. "Thanks for taking us around this way. We really appreciate it!"

"No problem. By the way..." The alum lowered his voice as though his next words were a secret, "What's your number?"

The senior flutist's smile disappeared as fast as it came. "Not in a million years, buddy. Let's get going, guys." She pulled both Rachel and Carly by the arms into the fast food restaurant, and they left the denied employee behind.

"Looks like McCoy isn't the only one we need to worry about, Clone," Rachel giggled with a smirk.

"Shut up! Like I would ever go for a scruffy college drop out that works at McDonald's." Clone peered around the corner, and the sitting area was revealed to them.

"I dunno, he _was_ a tenor saxophone," Carly continued for Rachel casually.

"If you guys mention him one more time, I _will _kick your asses in front of the whole restaurant."

Rachel tried not to laugh. "All right, all right! Let's just find McCoy and Weaver and then get out of here."

"Well, that shouldn't be hard. They're right over there."

The band students' directed their eyes to a far away table where McCoy was laughing like an idiot while stuffing her face with a Big Mac. Weaver grinned in response, probably pleased in successfully amusing the insane dictator. His hand was dangerously close to her's, and the sight made the teenagers sick to their stomachs.

"Okay, one: barf. Two: barf. And three: OH MY GOD, BARF," Rachel shrieked, crouching down low with her two friends.

"This is probably the most disgusting thing I have ever witnessed," Clone admitted calmly. "Excuse me while I go puke."

"Hold up!" Carly grabbed the senior by the arm before she could go anywhere. "I know it's terrifying, but we came here to face it."

"It's just worse to actually see it," Clone mumbled.

Another employee quickly hustled by, giving the three high school students on the floor a weird stare.

"We better find another hiding spot before we get questioned," Rachel suggested, lowering her gaze to her feet.

"Right," Clone agreed. "But honestly... _where_?"

"Well, we're all wearing jackets." Rachel pulled the jacket's hood over her head, and it hid her hair and darkened most of her features. "Why don't we just act natural and sit at a table like this?"

"This is probably going to backfire somehow, but I don't see any other genius plans nearby. Let's do it."

The three friends nodded in agreement, and one by one they flipped their hoods over their heads. They made sure that every fiber of hair was hidden from view, and once this was accomplished, they slowly strolled out into the sitting area of the restaurant.

"We look like we belong in a gang, not a band," Carly whispered under her breath. "We're gonna be lucky if McCoy doesn't recognize us."

"Do you _really _think she's paying attention?" Clone hissed in an even quieter tone.

Sure enough, McCoy's gaze remained locked on Weaver, who continued to smile at her even though her face was smothered in cheeseburger remnants.

The band students tried to ignore this as they slid into a booth that was located about three tables down from McCoy and Weaver. Controlling their nerves was difficult, for if Weaver looked in a particular angle, he would catch their faces immediately.

Clone picked up a salt shaker and pretended to look interested in its design. "And now we watch."

"I don't really want to," Rachel whimpered, acting as though something outside had caught her eye. "It's not-"

"_Shut up. _They're talking again."

"So how are your students enjoying the trip so far?" Weaver asked casually to start a new conversation.

McCoy not even bothering to swallow, replied with her mouth full, "They seem to like it. Anything keeps them entertained-from edible bugs to shiny objects. Once they brought a stuffed squirrel to one of our games, and they were more interested in that than talking to one another."

Instead of appearing creeped out, the mysterious volunteer chuckled. "Well, I'm sure you love them nonetheless, right?"

"They're the best form of birth control, so yes. They're actually nice kids once you get past the general insanity."

"I can imagine that they keep you quite busy," Weaver continued.

"You got that right. I'm always dragging them somewhere, even after marching season." McCoy paused to take a sip from her coffee cup. "I've been unwillingly given the mom title."

"I'm guessing that they're all the kids you need."

The band director shrugged. "Yeah. If I had to look after any more-especially little ones-then I'd probably go insane."

"He is such a pedo," Clone hissed as she watched them out of the corner of her eye. "He's already asking her what she thinks about children."

"What about relationships? They probably keep you out of those, too." Weaver's statement was supposed to sound light, but there was something else hidden in his tone.

In a matter of moments, McCoy appeared nervous again. She started twirling her napkin on the table, staring at it instead of Weaver's face. "Well... yeah. I haven't been on a date in a long time."

"Do they get jealous?"

"More than necessary. I once brought a guy to one of our games, but it didn't last long. My kids scared him off, claiming that I was already married to the band or something."

Weaver laughed. "Surely they won't mind our little get together, right?"

McCoy gave him an anxious smile. "Only a few know, and they didn't seem to care."

"Oh, the ones that were on your doorstep when I came?" Weaver acted as though he didn't have a clue about the situation.

"Yeah, those girls are some of my better members," McCoy replied. "They're still unpredictable, though."

"_Hey_!" Rachel pouted quietly from her table, folding her arms after hearing the band director's statement.

"Hopefully you don't mind that I asked you to come here, either," Weaver said with another million dollar grin.

The dictator's eyes widened and she sputtered, "N-No! It's okay. I'm... I'm glad that you asked me."

"Likewise, Jenna. Just this little conversation has proven that you are a very nice person to be around."

The three band students gaped as an actual _blush _materialized on McCoy's cheeks. They didn't know it was even possible for her to do such a thing. They were at a loss for words, for the sight was beyond shocking.

"Well... thanks," McCoy mumbled, her gaze settling on the table again. "But what about you, Weaver? What do you like to do?"

Her question seemed to affect him the wrong way, for his eyes quickly darted to his watch. "I'm sorry to stop you, but don't you think we should be heading back to check on the kids?" he asked, a little faster than necessary.

McCoy reached in her pocket for her iPhone, and realized it wasn't there. "Crap! I forgot that my phone broke earlier, and..." She sighed, and put a hand to her forehead. "I gave my number to the kids in my cabin when I don't even have a phone. I'm so stupid. Yeah, I guess we should be getting back. I need to check on my cabin. There's three of them that were throwing up before I left."

"And that's our cue to get the hell out of here," Clone gushed, jumping up from her spot in the booth.

Carly and Rachel followed suit, nearly falling on top of each other in their attempts to escape the seat.

"We're not too smart, either," Rachel pointed out, making sure that her hood was still over her head. "We freaked out about getting McCoy's number, when we were there when her phone was destroyed!"

"It's doesn't matter. Let's get going while they're throwing the food away."

As McCoy and Weaver shuffled to the nearest trashcan, the three spies made a mad dash for the exit. Carly looked back to see if anyone had noticed, and was relieved to see that everyone in the restaurant still appeared oblivious. For once, they had actually accomplished something.

"What a surprise!" Rachel said, squinting in the darkness to spot their golf carts. "We didn't die this time."

"Not yet, at least." Clone quickly glanced at McDonald's double doors before urging the two freshmen forward. "If we don't hurry and get back to camp, they're going to see us!"

Rachel's facial expression changed to fearful. "Can't we just walk back?"

"...No. Try not to kill yourself, okay?"

* * *

Scarlett smacked herself for what seemed like the millionth time. Ever since they went down to the cookout, Lydia and Jackie had found it necessary to do any stupid thing that came to mind. Unfortunately, Mountain Dew was provided at this gathering and Lydia had gulped down about six cans thus far. Jackie had seen a duck and was now rambling about Donald Duck, and she had actually tried to catch it a few times. Lydia was muttering strange things like 'flying cheeseburger remnants' and forcing random band members to dance with her. It didn't help that Shirley was acting completely gay and the other three girls of cabin one hadn't returned yet.

"Lydia, stop already!" Scarlett hissed, grabbing the hyper freshman by the arm. She simply yanked away, giggling at nothing in particular. "Rachel told you to behave, remember?"

The freshman flute player waved a hand in the air, as if dismissing the idea. "No one listens to her, silly."

The junior clarinet player glared at her. "Yes, but that doesn't matter! You and Jackie _aren't _acting natural!"

"What are you talking about? We're fine!"

At that moment, Jackie thundered by, holding a struggling duck by the neck. "I caught him! I caught Donald!" she declared loudly, laughing like a mad scientist.

"...Jackie, I don't know how you even managed to catch that, but _put it down._"

"No." The junior tenor saxophone player looked back down at the duck, who screeched and attempted to swat at her with its wing. "He loves me!"

Scarlett groaned in frustration and tried to pry Jackie's hands away from the poor animal.

Lydia gasped dramatically and tried to stop her. "Don't hurt it!" she shrieked.

"Like it's not in pain already!"

Out of no where, the duck stopped squirming and decided to bite Jackie on the hand. She dropped it immediately, screeching as though she had been poisoned. The duck merely waddled away towards the safety of the camp's lake.

"That's what you get for acting like you're drunk," Scarlett snapped, not feeling one ounce of pity for the now pouting Jackie. "You too, Lydia. We need to remain calm until Carly, Rachel, and... Rachel return from their mission."

Lydia opened her mouth to say something-probably a nonsensical inside joke-but she was interrupted by Shirley talking over all of them.

"All right, guys! We're gonna settle down now and I'm going to tell a story," he said as if the whole band consisted of five-year-olds. If you want to get technical, then he was close to correct.

Band members exchanged bored glances and they slowly stopped whatever destructive thing they were doing. Morgan and Josh stopped shoving chips down their pants, Hannah ceased from dancing creepily, Clay climbed out of the punch bowl and the rest of the band followed suit. Scarlett somehow managed to stop Lydia and Jackie from doing anymore stupid things. Once everyone gathered together, they sat in the grass at their feet. Shirley stood by a convenient campfire and proceeded to smile like a pedophile.

"This is probably going to seem like your average camp story, but I assure you, it's as real as you and I," Shirley told the crowd.

"More like as real as his sexuality," came a muffled whisper from the giant group. Snorts followed this statement as the band agreed.

Shirley remained clueless as he continued, "Have any of you heard of shape shifters?"

Jackie gasped in response, "_I have_!" Scarlett smacked herself a moment later.

"I'm sure all of you have heard or read about them, but the shape shifters I'm talking about are different. The breed only lives near this camp, lurking around the forest and the cabins. They normally take on the form of humans, to blend into society and remain inconspicuous. Shape shifters always have one goal in life, whether it be to destroy something-or someone-or find true love."

"This is officially the most retarded thing I have ever heard," Ashlyn declared, returning her attention to her iPhone.

"Not all shape shifters are good, though," Shirley said as though he didn't hear her. "Sometimes-if they get angry-they take on the forms of terrifying beasts and destroy whatever agitated them. They usually become lethal if they don't obtain the goal they're so obsessed with." He smiled demonically. "By the way, there have been some unexplainable deaths at this camp."

Awkward silence.

"Have a nice night!" The strange camp owner finished, stepping away from the dying fire.

The band didn't know how to react for the longest time, but after a few minutes, they gradually started to disperse and return to their cabins for the night.

"How was that even a story?" Scarlett wondered. "It took less than two minutes to tell."

"Perhaps it was a warning," Jackie said with a completely straight face.

"I think Shirley's just off his rocker and made that up earlier today because he has a sad, lonely life. It's believable."

* * *

The six band members of cabin one remained awake in their uncomfortable beds-or Emo Corners-waiting for just the right time to begin discussing the information they had obtained earlier. McCoy had ran around the cabin, doing the most pointless things even after midnight. She washed her hands for no reason, used the bathroom, cleaned the already spotless cabin before repeating the cycle all over again. Just when they thought she was never going to stop, she finally went to bed and started snoring like a freight train.

"Thank God!" Clone whisper-yelled from her side of the room. She threw the covers off of her and stood in the middle of the cabin. "What the hell was she planning on accomplishing, anyway?"

Rachel rubbed her eyes and slowly got up from her cob-webbed corner. "Once again, it's _McCoy. _There is no explanation."

Carly climbed out of her bed and yawned over dramatically. "All right, so what did we all learn today?"

"McDonald's is the perfect place for someone to hit on you," Rachel said with a straight face before getting pelted with a hairbrush that Clone decided to fling. "_Ow!_ Okay! We learned that Weaver is a creepy pedo and McCoy is continuing to fall for his act."

"That's old news," Lydia replied, who had recently just calmed down from her caffeine high. "Anything else?"

"Well... McCoy _did _try to ask Weaver about his personal life, but he quickly changed the subject after she questioned him," Carly said in response.

"He probably has a history of being a sexual predator," Clone mumbled irritably.

Rachel shrugged. "I have no clue." She turned and squinted to look at Scarlett through the darkness. "What did you guys learn today?"

"_We _learned never to give Lydia Mountain Dew again and that Jackie is an expert at catching ducks," Scarlett said quietly, who was still buried under the blankets of her bed.

Clone merely looked bored. "Do we even want to know?"

"No. No you don't. But we also got told a really stupid camp story by that creeper Shirley."

"What was it about?"

"Something about shape shifters lurking around the area or something equally retarded."

The senior flute player remained curious despite Scarlett's strange description. "What all did he say?"

Scarlett mumbled something incorherent before becoming silent.

Clone sighed in frustration and turned to Jackie, "What did Shirley say in the story?"

Jackie shrugged. "Beats me! All I know is Weaver's a shape shifter."

"...What?"

"Didn't she say that earlier for what seemed to be no reason?" Carly questioned.

"Uh... yes. Yes she did. Why does she keep bringing that up?"

The tenor saxophone player replied, "I don't know what you guys think, but he fits the description perfectly. Mysterious, attractive man that appears out of no where with no history to be found."

After the momentary shock that Jackie actually made sense, Lydia continued, "That... That actually sounds like him. Shirley also said that shape shifters only have one goal, and they spend their whole life trying to fulfill it."

Silence.

"_Guys._"

Everyone turned to look at Clone and merely stared at her.

"McCoy," she said simply.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"If Weaver really _is _a shape shifter, McCoy has to do with his one goal. That's why he jumped to her side so quickly. Whether the whole goal revolves around her or she just has something to do with it, that's our answer." She gave everyone in the room a serious look. "I know this sounds retarded and it's 2 o'clock in the morning, but... I think Jackie may be right."


End file.
